


Dearly Beloved

by aanchoredd



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Capes, Background Alcohol Abuse, Chronic Pain, Drinking, English Major Jason Todd, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Weddings, past non-graphic violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aanchoredd/pseuds/aanchoredd
Summary: Though Barbara Gordon had been dreading the whole affair, she didn’t expect to be spending Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul’s wedding—a wedding she was in—feeling like a complete stranger in the place that had defined so much of her youth.Jason Todd, however, started counting down the days to his estranged father’s wedding as soon as he found out she’d be there, even if it meant playing nice with his family after six long years away.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 85





	1. Barbara

There were days when Barbara Gordon felt like Wayne Manor was her second home. She knew the over 100,000 square foot floor plan by heart, down to which corner of the unused servant’s passage was the perfect spot for winning hide and seek.She knew the kitchen always smelled of curry and ginger on Wednesday night’s from butler-turned-father-figure Alfred Pennyworth’s famous Mulligatawny soup. She knew which floorboards in the west wing creaked, so as to avoid waking Bruce Wayne when sneaking out late at night. She knew which chandeliers were from the mansion’s original construction in the 1800s and which were perfect imitations, replaced mere weeks after Bruce took in his elder son, Dick Grayson, a former circus acrobat who couldn’t stay grounded. Even Ace, the family’s German Shepherd, begged her for belly rubs instead of growling as he did with every other visitor.

It wasn’t until Barbara walked into the grand ballroom on Friday evening that she realized the next few days would not be one of those. Though she’d been dreading the whole affair, she didn’t expect to be spending Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul’s wedding—a wedding she was in—feeling like a complete stranger in the place that had defined so much of her youth.

The manor played host to countless galas and formal dances over the last two centuries, but Barbara doubted it ever looked as extravagant as it did that fateful September weekend. The Corinthian columns that supported the high ceilings and second floor walkways were wrapped in gold silk and twinkled with lights, adorned with vines and white gardenias in full bloom. A long, empty buffet table stretched across the wall of floor to ceiling stained glass, which overlooked the expansive back patio and lawn. Small tables dotted the Calacatta marble floors, draped in emerald green silk that shimmered under a spattering of tealights. A stream of workers ebbed and flowed around them as they arranged elaborate floral centerpieces and gold place settings on each table.

Despite the chaos, Barbara spotted him immediately, casually stretching his calf on a chair spindle as he oversaw the production. Her brain completed the pattern of his short-sleeve dress shirt even from across the room; navy blue speckled with colorful little birds. She was there when Bruce gave it to him for Hanukkah last year, where she remarked on the way it complimented his tan skin and dark hair. Barbara inhaled sharply when he smiled, all pearly white teeth and breathtakingly backlit in reds and blues as sunlight streamed through the windows.

All these years and Dick Grayson still made her heart skip a beat.

Suddenly, a woman bounded down the grand staircase and jumped straight into his arms. Dick spun her around, her giggle echoing throughout the ballroom. The instant her feet touched the ground again, Dick kissed her deeply, one hand threaded through her hair and the other low on her back.

_Right._

That smile wasn’t for her. Not anymore.

Barbara gritted her teeth and swallowed down the urge to vomit, insisting to herself that it was the display of it all that irritated her—a cited reason for their break up—and not the fact that her ex’s tongue was in someone else's mouth. With no end in sight, Barbara hiked her bags further up her shoulder and strode across the room, head held high and making no effort to quiet the squeak of her sneakers.

“Babs!” Dick cried, finally pulling away long enough to notice her presence.

Barbara smiled. “Hi, Dick.”

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Barbara tensed under his touch, but returned the hug as best she could with a garment bag draped over one arm.

Though they had spoken almost every day, this was their first time seeing each other since they broke up in January and Barbara hadn’t been sure what to expect. Dick’s decade-long friendship with Donna Troy gave her some insight, but Barbara had assumed seven years of dating would change _something_ about how she’d be treated now that she was just another friend. At the very least, she was certain you weren’t supposed to kiss your ex in front of your new partner, no matter how chastley you did so.

When they separated, Barbara finally got a good look at the woman standing next to them. She (like most people, Barbara included) was taller than Dick, with dark brown skin and hair dyed a deep red, curling softly past her shoulders. Her purple jumpsuit was perfectly tailored to her curves with the kind of plunging neckline Barbara always avoided. Babs could already describe her face from memory; after all, it stared at her from every magazine cover at every doctor’s office she visited in the past year. It was seven months ago when the tabloids began taunting her too, gushing about America’s newest sweethearts.

A part of herself that Barabara would never admit to hoped it had been all Photoshop, but the truth was that though the photographs were stunning, they were nothing compared to Kori Anders in real life.

Kori Anders who replaced her after just three short weeks.

 _You dumped him, Gordon_ , Barbara reminded herself as she forced a smile. And while she decidedly did not want Dick back, that didn’t mean it hadn’t stung.

“Babs, this is Kori,” Dick said proudly. “Kori, Babs.”

“Barbara, actually,” she replied coolly.

Dick looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but Kori was beaming, completely unfazed.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Barbara. Everyone has told me so much about you,” Kori exclaimed, extending a hand.

“Not everything, I hope.”

She shook Kori’s hand and narrowed her eyes at Dick, smile still firmly in place. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned to the floor and rubbed his neck sheepishly. Barbara sighed.

“Your drive here was good?” Kori asked.

Barbara shrugged. “Some traffic, but that’s Gotham for you.”

“Oh, I’ve learned! It was terrible on our way in from New York yesterday too, wasn’t it, Richard?”

Barbara rolled her eyes. The only time anyone used Dick’s full name was if they were mad at him or they were Alfred, who insisted on formalities even with family. Dick didn’t seem to mind, however, nodding and wrapping an arm around Kori’s waist.

“But we are here now!” Kori continued, squeezing Barbara’s shoulder. “And we are going to have so much fun this weekend.”

Barbara shifted her bag’s strap, subtly shoving Kori off. God, her perkiness was really just perfect for Dick, wasn’t it?

“Thanks again for letting me stay here,” Barbara said to him.

Dick grinned. “Of course, Babs. You’re basically family. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Speaking of, please do not spend all weekend swapping cop stories with my dad. He’s already coming late tonight because of a development with the Re—” Barbara’s mouth snapped shut and she bit her lip. “With the case. And I’m sure you could both use a break from work.”

“She has a point, dear,” Kori said. She placed a hand on Dick’s chest, but he ignored her.

“Yeah, I heard. Even in my precinct, it’s all anyone could talk about. How you holdin’ up?”

It wasn’t lost on Barbara the way his eyes briefly darted from her face to her abdomen and back again; the way his gaze softened, like simply looking at her would break her. She crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” she replied nonchalantly.

“Babs,” he said, not believing her; never believing her about this.

“I’m fine, Dick,” Barbara insisted, her raised tone contradicting her words. “Will I feel better once my dad nails his ass and he’s rotting in a cell for the rest of his life? No shit. But I promise you, I _am_ fine.”

Barbara glared at Dick with her lips in a tight line and he looked back at her with a pensive frown. This was the most tame conversation they’d ever had about Gotham’s infamous Red Hood Gang. Usually there was screaming and crying and things said they both still wished they could take back, most of which happened while Barbara lay in a hospital bed.

“Richard, perhaps we should…” Kori said, stopping herself when she realized Dick was no longer paying attention to either of the women standing beside him.

“Excuse me!” Dick called across the room to where a bar was being set up. When the men continued working, Dick tried again, sighing almost immediately at another lack of response. “Sorry, but Alfred’s gonna have a heart attack if he sees any kind of food within 10 feet of the Monet. Kori’ll show you to your room.”

Barbara scowled. “I know where it… is.”

But, with a quick kiss to his girlfriend, Dick was already gone, waving frantically at the bartenders as he went.

Kori shook her head. “I am sorry, Barbara, he has been like that all day. He was so calm about the planning, but now it’s like everything must be perfect.” Kori let out a deep breath and turned, a wide smile now in place. “Please, at least let me help you with your things.”

Before Barbara could protest, Kori grabbed the garment bags from Barbara’s arms. As soon as it was in her grasp, Kori started squealing about how excited she was to see everyone in their dresses tomorrow. She then launched into a long-winded story about how modeling for the designer was her first professional photo shoot and caused her to fall in love with the industry. Barbara supplied some “yeahs” and “mhms” in feigned interest, but it was a mostly one-sided conversation that carried them all the way upstairs to the bedrooms.

The last time Barbara stepped foot in her bedroom at the manor was high school and she was unsurprised to find nothing about it had changed. There was a four poster mahogany bed, covered in pillows and sheets in shades of red. Nightstands were placed on either side and a dresser rested against the wall across from it. An oriental rug anchored the furniture and an armchair was tucked into the corner.

It was the standard Wayne Manor guest room, but it was the one closest to the family’s quarters and the one reserved for her before she started sleeping in Dick’s bed.

The only sign of that fact was a forest green robe draped across the foot of the bed. Barbara’s fingers traced the white embroidery of her initials on the breast pocket and she smiled. Picking it up, she breathed in its freshly laundered scent before holding it close to her chest. It had been a gift from Alfred when she was in the hospital and Barbara wore it every day since receiving it; that is until she accidentally left it behind when she stayed with the Waynes for the holidays. Barbara never went back for it, figuring she would just pick it up the next time she came by.

She hadn’t expected that next time to take so long.

As Kori hung Barbara’s dress up in the closet, Babs began unpacking her toiletries in the bathroom. When she emerged, she found Kori still there, lingering in the doorway with an arm wrapped around her chest. Barbara gave her a sideways glance before carrying on, keeping an eye on Kori in her peripheral vision as she began to place clothes in the dresser.

“Barbara, I—” Kori pouted in thought. “I realize this is an awkward situation for you, but I know it would mean an awful lot to Richard, and to me as well, if we could be friends.”

Barbara stilled, her hands gripping a t-shirt. She turned her face to look at Kori, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and biting her lip. Kori’s smile was timid, but hope twinkled clear as day in her soft brown eyes.

Barbara’s chest tightened.

She had more than a few thoughts about Kori before then. Almost all of them were things Barbara would deny and never dare speak out loud, especially not to Dick. Yet there Kori was, less than 20 minutes after they met, offering her nothing but kindness and somehow understanding.

“Everyone has spoken so highly of you and I-”

Barbara cut her off.

“I think I’d like that Kori.”

* * *

With so many people coming from out of town, Bruce and Talia opted to make the night before the wedding a full-blown affair. By the time Barbara changed and made her way back downstairs, the chandeliers—six in total, only two original—were dimmed and the party was well underway. Waiters made the rounds passing out hors d'oeuvres and champagne to the packed ballroom as jazz music floated across the air from a quartet that set up in the corner.

As Barbara made her way through the crowd towards the bar, she spotted a few more familiar faces. Pulitzer Prize winning journalists Clark Kent and Lois Lane, along with their son Conner, had been cornered by Diana Prince, Bruce’s art dealer, who was no doubt bombarding them with questions about their recently announced pregnancy. Bruce’s med school friend Harleen Quinzel and her girlfriend Pamela Isley were already fawning over the floral arrangements, high praise Barbara would later pass on to Dinah. Lastly, there was Luke Fox, who Babrbara knew from working at Wayne Enterprises for three years after college, standing beside his family. It was recently announced that Bruce appointed his father, Lucius, to be the new CEO following Bruce’s recent resignation. Barbara made a note to find time to say hello and congratulate him.

“Whiskey neat, please?” Barbara asked, finally sidling up to the bar.

The bartender nodded. “Comin’ right up.”

“Thanks… Frankie,” she replied, reading her name tag.

“Y’know, I never pegged you as a whiskey girl, and yet somehow I’m not surprised,” a voice Barbara didn’t recognize said. The words were coated in a thick Jersey accent.

Barbara caught a glimpse of a blood red shirt as a man got comfortable against the bar next to her and made a pointed decision to stay facing Frankie. She placed an elbow on the countertop and rested her head on her fist.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I definitely pegged you as an asshole,” she sniped.

Barbara’s father forced her to attend many Wayne Galas during her life, and she hated them for the sole reason that for every kind-hearted socialite looking to donate their excess wealth to charity, there were a dozen scumbags who clung to their daddy’s money and didn’t understand the meaning of the word “no.” Bruce assured her he had enough good sense not to invite them to his wedding, but apparently one slipped through the cracks anyway. It was entirely too early in the weekend for Barbara to even consider feigning politeness.

The man sucked his teeth and let out a huff of air. “So I was right then. You sided with them. Guess it was only a matter of time.”

Barbara looked at him from the corner of her eye, brows narrowed in confusion. “Sided with _who_ on _what_?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent,” he spat. “We both know you’re too smart for that.”

“You always judge women you don’t know this harshly or am I special?”

He took a step back and Barbara watched as his face twisted into something that she could have sworn was pain.

“Seriously, Barbara?” His voice was quiet this time, the edges tinged with desperation.

Barbara snapped her head around to look at him, lips parted and eyes wide. She studied his face. There was something familiar in his piercing blue eyes, but the more she searched, the harder it became to place the strong jawline or slight dent in his flat nose, like it was never set properly.

“How do you know my name?” she asked hesitantly.

“Come on,” he whined dramatically, a hand clutched over his heart. “Really tryin’ to break my heart already, Barbie?”

Barbara’s jaw hit the floor at the nickname. Only one person ever called her that and there was no way that this was—

“Jason?” she asked incredulously.

The man smiled and suddenly everything clicked into place in Barbara’s brain. She would never forget the signature crooked grin of Jason Todd.

He raised his arms and gestured towards himself. “In the flesh.”

“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t— I thought—” she stammered.

It wasn’t like Barbara didn’t know he’d be there. Kori wasn’t lying when she said Dick had been calm during the wedding planning. He could have, overall, been described as such. There was just one name that set him off from the moment Bruce proposed.

“I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d remember me.” Jason shook his head.

Barbara placed a hand on Jason’s forearm and smiled softly.

“Jay, how could I possibly forget you?”

He shrugged. “Six years is a long time, Barb.”

Barbara pursed her lips as she pulled moments from the last time she saw Jason Todd. She felt the chill of hardwood floors on her bare feet; breathed the smell of a summer storm finally about to break; saw the shine of the town car undeterred by the lack of sun; heard Dick’s voice trying to assure her Bruce was doing the right thing. Etched the deepest, though, was Jason blowing her a kiss and the heartbreaking look in his tired eyes as he got carted away, his palm against the windowpane mirroring her own.

He just looked so different from that dorky 16 year-old in the backseat. Jason always cursed puberty for taking its sweet time, but it was clearly good to him once it decided to show up. Even with her in heels and him propped against the bar, he towered over Barbara. Jason’s once crackling voice had finally leveled out to a deep bass. The arms that were previously too long for his frame were replaced with solid muscle, visible even under the loose fabric of his button-down.

Jason’s skin wasn’t as light as she recalled, closer to the shade it was his first summer at the manor when he spent all his time helping Alfred in the garden. Dick, in a fit of anger, had mentioned something about a vacation being Jason’s “excuse” for not helping with the wedding.

The only thing that stayed the same was his hair, still jet black and unruly. Barbara would have bet her savings it was longer than he usually wore it based on the curls fighting through at the tips. On a night not unlike this one, Jason once confided in her that he kept it short because of the way the curls made him look like his father.

“See something you like?” Jason asked smugly.

Barbara shook her head amusedly. “In your dreams, Todd.”

That wicked smirk was back on his lips. “Hmm, gonna have to be more specific, Barbie. There've been quite a few.”

Barbara tried to roll her eyes, but a soft laugh escaped instead.

“At least some things haven’t changed, you perv,” she teased.

Just then, the bartender returned with Barbara’s drink. She thanked her as Frankie set it down and fished a dollar out of her purse to leave on the counter.

“So, um.” Jason cleared his throat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tight black jeans. “How have you been?”

Barbara opened her mouth to answer, when a short woman barrelled over to them, gripping Barbara’s shoulders and jerking Babs towards her.

“Oh, thank God! I’m ready to never touch another hydrangea again, but you failed to mention how insane this place is and I have no idea where I’m supposed to…” The woman trailed off as she caught sight of Jason and smiled slyly at him. “Oh. Hello.”

He nodded in greeting. Her blue eyes flickered between him and Barbara for a few moments before the corner of her mouth quirked up further.

“Nevermind, I’ll figure it out myself.”

With blonde hair and fair skin, Dinah Lance was the definition of a bombshell and she knew it. Barbara met her a few years ago, when Dinah took over the family-run flower shop Barbara used to live above. Business bloomed under Dinah’s care and it wasn’t long before she was demanded for every high-profile corporate event and wedding in the country, Bruce’s included.

When Dinah came home from one particularly lavish affair with more than a paycheck and told Barbara she’d also be attending the wedding, Babs’ first reaction was relief, followed quickly by nothing but concern.

Barbara had only met Oliver Queen a handful of times since then, so most of her knowledge was still drawn from public rumors and private stories Dick and his friends told. None of it assured Babs that he was good enough for her best friend. But their coupling guaranteed Barbara at least one person in her corner that weekend, and for that she was willing to play nice.

“What’s the problem, Dinah?” Barbara sighed.

“Excuse us,” Dinah said in her best customer service voice, pulling Barbara away before Jason could even acknowledge the comment.

Despite being a few feet from the bar, and easily out of earshot over the commotion of the party, they kept their tone hushed.

“Seriously, it’s not important and he”—Dinah pointed not subtly towards Jason—“is hot.”

“He’s Dick’s brother,” Barbara replied curtly, crossing her arms.

“So _that’s_ who Ollie hates so much.” She placed a hand on her hip and looked Jason over again, sizing him up properly now. “Damn, too bad. He’s totally into you and we both know you need to get laid.”

“Dinah!” Barbara exclaimed loud enough for a group of passers-by to shoot them looks of disgust.

Dinah glowered back at them before returning her attention to Barbara, waving her arm to brush her off.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“First of all, that’s impossible,” Barbara replied sternly. “Second, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know.” Dinah held up her hands in surrender. “But it’s been almost a whole _year_.”

It was a number Barbara liked to try and push to the back of her mind, and wasn’t for lack of trying, at least while Dick was still around. But between Barbara’s exhausting physical therapy and their crumbling relationship, intimacy of any kind was sparse during the last months they were together. Dating was something she only recently started considering and found it daunting enough before she had double the baggage to bring with her.

“I went out with that PI the other week,” Barbara said defensively. “How do you know we didn’t?”

“You needed a pro-con list to agree to coffee with the guy,” Dinah answered, as if that was the stupidest question Barbara could have asked. “Meanwhile, your ex is here parading around a literal princess.”

Barbara huffed and looked away from Dinah, accidentally landing on Jason watching them intently as he tried to hide a laugh behind the drink now in his hand.

Great. At least her humiliation was amusing to someone.

“I thought this was about _you_ needing help, Dinah,” she hissed, face burning as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I just need to find my room.” Dinah nodded towards the suitcase at her feet that Barbara was just now noticing. “Look, all I’m saying is if you’re scared to get back in the saddle, this is the perfect place to do it. I mean, you’ll never see half these people again, right?”

Barbara shut her eyes tight and took three steadying breaths. When she opened them, she slowly met Dinah’s gaze again.

“You know it’s complicated, Di,” Barbara said, just above a whisper.

Dinah pried an arm free from across Barbara’s chest and took Babs’ hand in her own.

“I know, hun. And I say all this because I love you.” She smiled reassuringly. “So just promise me you’ll think about it, okay? Do what you gotta do, keep the lights off or whatever. But don’t you think getting under one of them”—Dinah ticked her head towards the growing crowd of eligible bachelors—“might help you get over Dick too?”

Barbara tapped her foot as she mulled over Dinah’s perspective on the matter. She felt like she was 16 and staring down the first time again. That had been low stakes; her high school boyfriend she knew wouldn’t last anyway so she could figure out the logistics of it all. Perhaps that was what she needed here too. A trial run to see what still worked and what didn’t, so that when it mattered she would know what to do. Perhaps that was too much to ask of someone she just met. Assuming she would even tell him, when Barbara wasn’t even telling her friends the true extent of her condition. Perhaps… she just needed a way to stop thinking about it for five seconds.

Barbara was almost ready to concede that maybe, just maybe, Dinah had a point when her last words cut through the noise in Barbara’s head.

“I’m over him.”

Dinah cocked her head to the side and stared at Barbara silently.

“I’m not gonna say it, but know that it’s only because I need something from you.”

Barbara threw her head back and groaned. “Just… give me a minute, okay?”

Dinah nodded and offered to meet Barbara in the hallway. On her way, at full volume, she sang out, “bye, Jason.”

He gave Dinah a two-finger salute and watched Barbara as she made her way over to him. Her hands balled into tight fists loosened the instant she was back in Jason’s presence.

“Sorry about that.” Barbara smiled sadly. “Catch up later?”

“Count on it.”

Barbara only made it halfway to the door before suddenly spinning around and rushing back the way she came. Jason spotted her forgotten glass on the bar and went to reach for it, but found himself holding Barbara instead.

“I missed you, Jay,” she mumbled quietly against his collarbone, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Jason was still for a moment before pulling her close to his chest, his breathing controlled and measured. He rested his cheek against Barbara’s head and closed his eyes.

“Missed you too, Barb.”

Adult Jason might have been made of sharp angles and hard mass, but his embrace was the same soft warmth she remembered from when they were kids. Barbara breathed in deep, pushing down the lump in her throat. She absorbed the woodsy notes of his cologne and the lingering scent of tobacco, finding a strange comfort in the way it reminded her of her father’s apartment.

The way it reminded her of coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been working on this on and off for months and am trying to force myself to stop rewriting the same five words by actually posting the damn thing so here goes nothing
> 
> 03/15/2020: A few slight edits, most importantly to remove mention of a rehearsal, because I realized the other day that’s a thing Jewish weddings totally don’t do. Which this is not fully, but it’s been super forced so I’m taking it. I promise my dumb, Catholic-raised ass looked up the traditions before I started writing this and none of it mentioned that.
> 
> 05/09/2020: Edited grammar, reworded some sentences and completely cleaned up Barbara and Dinah’s conversation


	2. Jason

Five months ago, when Jason came home to find Dick sitting on the stoop of his apartment building, he almost laughed in his older brother's face. The first time they spoke in six years and of course it was because the golden child wanted something.

 _B’s getting married_ , Dick had said. _He won’t talk about it, but I know he wants you there._

It wasn’t a good enough reason for Jason, who figured if Bruce cared that much, he should have been the one driving to New Haven. After all, Gotham was only three hours away, tops—not that Jason looked it up countless times or anything. The point was Bruce could have done it in a day and still been home in time for Alfred to cook him dinner or give him a bath or whatever ridiculous request Bruce needed that day to cope with his own incompetence. And that was what Jason told Dick, repeatedly, before cursing him out in three languages he was sure Dick didn’t understand.

 _You know Alfie thought it would never happen_ was all Dick had left to say. Which, Jason thought, if Dick knew him at all, he would have led with and saved himself the trouble.

Because the thing Jason would never tell his brother was that he spent the months before Dick’s visit contemplating how to reach out to their family. Jason blamed his lack of follow-through on being notoriously stubborn, but deep down he knew that wasn’t the real reason. The envelope had been addressed for weeks, waiting impatiently on Jason’s desk, next to the first edition _Pride and Prejudice_ Alfred sent when it became clear Jason wouldn’t be keeping in touch with anyone from Gotham.

So, yeah, Dick showing up had nothing to do with Jason finally getting some stamps and sending his college graduation tickets to the manor, no note or expectations attached. Nothing at all.

When the time came, Jason found them easily in the vast auditorium, standing and clapping as he crossed the stage; Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and a woman Jason would come to learn was Kori. They took him out for brunch. He showed them around the city where he spent most of his time away. All picking up like everything was fine and never speaking of what happened between them, as those who spent formative years at Wayne Manor were wont to do.

Bruce, unsurprisingly, ended the day by asking Jason to be a groomsman. He found it easy to say yes, though he still made sure Bruce felt like he had to work for it. It wasn’t until weeks later, however, when Kori confirmed the name of one specific bridesmaid, that Jason started looking forward to his return to Gotham. He kept telling himself he would be satisfied with just catching a glimpse of her face again, but then he did and she smiled—at him, specifically—and Jason knew that was a fucking lie.

The whole conversation replayed on a loop as he obsessed over it, still leaning against the bar where she left him. Jason assumed whatever Dinah said to make Barbara so ticked off had to do with him. Did some part of her actually think he was an asshole? She had every reason to. His problems were with Bruce and Dick, yet he cut her out all the same. But she clung tight when she hugged him and that had to count for something, right?

The corner of Jason’s mouth twitched up as he lingered on that particular part of the interaction, twirling the straw of his drink between his fingertips. It snapped loose when someone walked up beside him. Recognizing their long, scruffy red hair, Jason slipped back into his trance briefly, before an elbow to his ribs broke it for good.

“Are you even listening to me, man?”

Jason would never admit it to the guy, but befriending Roy was the best thing to come out of Bruce shipping him off to boarding school when he was 16. Roy was a friend of the family’s forever, but Bruce and Oliver ceased playdates with their kids long before Jason showed up. They met instead as roommates Jason’s first year away and he never trusted anyone as quickly as he did Roy Harper; probably because they were the only kids to steal from billionaires and wind up adopted instead of arrested. After years spent at colleges on opposite coasts, they were recently reunited, and Jason felt a little more complete because of it.

“Hm?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “I _said_ , did you talk to her?”

“Yep,” Jason said, popping the ‘p.’

“And?” Roy gestured with his full glass for Jason to continue, sloshing beer across the bar.

Jason sighed deeply and scrubbed a hand down his face. It was his own fault really. He never should have asked Kori about Barbara with Roy around, but Jason would rather have most of his bones broken at once again than do it in front of Dick. And the only opportunity to avoid that came during his and Roy’s four month post-grad backpacking trip through Europe. Kori happened to be in London for a shoot at the same time they were passing through. They got together upon her insistence, and after a few hours at a pub, Jason was finally able to spit it out. Thanks to Roy’s lewd comments, Kori got it in her head that Jason _liked_ her even though he simply asked if she was invited. Once Kori started buzzing with ideas on how to set them up, an offer he vehemently refused, Jason knew he was doomed.

Kori would be a thorn in his side that weekend, but at least he trusted her to have tact. Roy, on the other hand, was bound to say something stupid and ruin Jason’s chance of a mere friendship with Barbara Gordon.

“That bad, huh?” Roy asked with genuine concern.

As if sensing her return, Jason looked up the stairs at the same moment Barbara descended them. She threw her head back in unbridled joy as she laughed at Dinah and Jason felt his breath catch in his throat. They were flanked by two teenagers now. He placed one as the scrawny neighbor kid who used to follow Dick around and while he didn’t know the other, he easily recognized the cautiously brazen way she moved. The poor girl got stuck with this shitshow as her first Wayne Manor event.

Barbara’s green eyes twinkled when they caught Jason’s and she raised a hand in a small wave. He returned the gesture, regretting it immediately because Roy let out a low whistle.

“Damn, dude, I forgot what a babe Babs is. Good thing you’re ‘just old friends.’ No way a girl like that would ever be into you.”

Jason cocked his head to side and glared at Roy, though he didn’t exactly disagree. An elegant black dress hung off the straight frame of her body, and with her flowing auburn hair and round face, Barbara was every bit as beautiful as she was when Jason first saw her. It was a different kind than Kori or Dinah. She didn’t turn heads when she walked in a room, yet she commanded attention all the same. Barbara quit ballet years before she met Jason, but her training was always apparent in the way she carried herself with the poise of a prima. The kids hung onto every word she said as her long legs gracefully led them away from the stairs.

Then there was Jason, who people tended to describe with words like “impulsive menace” ( _untrue_ ), “brash and brooding” ( _maybe a little_ ), or “dirty little criminal” ( _past tense and atoned for, thank you very much_ ). He couldn’t wash away the grit of being a kid from Crime Alley if he tried and he never had. Jason would have shown up to the welcome party in his usual uniform of a well-loved leather jacket and t-shirt if Kori hadn’t found out and threatened to kick his ass. He knew she could do it too, he just didn’t have anything nicer until he woke up that morning, finding a button down and designer dress boots sitting outside his bedroom door. Kori claimed they were a gift from a shoot, but even Jason knew enough about her job to know that wasn’t how it worked.

Roy burped loudly in Jason’s ear.

And did he mention his best friend, who could build a supercomputer at the age of eight, was somehow a complete disaster?

“Why do I hang out with you?” Jason asked without any bite.

Roy grinned and clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “No one gets your daddy issues like I do, Jaybird.”

Jason sighed. “I’ve warned you not to call me that.”

“And I’m still waiting for you to follow through and shuffle me off this mortal coil.” He got up in Jason’s face, smiling wider. “Who’s more frustrated?”

On the other side of the room, Dick joined Barbara. Jason stiffened as he watched Dick ruffle the boy’s hair and place his hand on the small of Barbara’s back. She put on a smile that wasn’t insincere, but Jason could read the uncertain lift in her brows even if they bought the act.

Roy nudged his arm. “C’mon, let’s go find Kori.”

“You said Oliver isn’t coming until tomorrow, right?” Jason asked as they made their way towards the tables.

“Yeah, Dinah mentioned some shit about a campaign rally? Won’t get here until after the ceremony, fuckin’ asshole.” Roy took a long sip of his drink and his forehead creased. “Why? Is he here? Did you see him?”

Jason shook his head. “Relax, man. Just checkin’.”

The tension dropped from Roy’s shoulders, quickly replaced with a sly smile. “Worried he’s gonna tell Babs you’re a bad influence?”

“He only thinks that ‘cause I covered for your sorry ass.” Jason poked Roy’s bicep. “Something you still never thanked me for, by the way.”

“See, that’s the difference between you and me.” Roy swiped a piece of sushi off the tray of a passing waiter. “ _I’m_ not afraid to piss off my old man.” He popped the fish in his mouth with a wink.

Jason rolled his eyes as they neared a table full of women and were waved over by one of them.

“Jason! Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Diana said, hugging him. “And you must be Roy.”

Jason smiled. “Hey, Diana.”

“How was your trip, boys? Did you get to see Kasia?”

In what she referred to as another life, Diana was a curator for the Louvre. When Bruce found out Jason and Roy were planning a stop in Paris, he put them in touch, then she did the same with the friends she had there. Jason was still skeptical of Bruce’s motives, but he always had a soft spot for Diana Prince.

“Amazing,” Roy replied, then added proudly, “I almost punched a mime!”

Diana’s face twisted between shock and amusement, clearly unsure of how to react to the statement. Jason chose to ignore it, answering Diana’s other question instead.

“Thank you for setting that up,” Jason said. “I was telling her about all the Gentileschi paintings we saw in Italy and her insight was _incredible_.”

Diana smiled wistfully. “She always was her favorite.”

“I can’t believe you left all that to work for jerks like Bruce.”

Diana laughed. “They’re not all as bad as your father.”

Jason soured at her term of endearment. It was, for all intents and legal purposes, true. But Jason swore off the F word after Willis proved to be more sperm donor than dad.

“I admit I feel a certain pull even now.” Diana turned serious, keeping her strong eyes trained on Jason as she spoke. “But there were things I needed to face elsewhere. It was time for me to come home.”

Jason crossed his arms, looking at her unamused, but not entirely upset. “Nice try, Diana.”

“Yeah, he’s stuck with me,” Roy said, enthusiastically sliding an arm around Jason’s shoulders. “Already got a place picked out in Seattle and everything. Movin’ in on Monday.”

Diana smiled like you couldn’t blame her for trying—though he would—before wishing them good luck and sending them off to finally meet up with Kori. When they reached the table she was sitting at, Kori leapt up and pulled them both in for a tight group hug.

“We saw you at breakfast.” Roy groaned.

Jason faked gasping noises. “Can’t… breathe… Kor.”

Kori shook her head in mock annoyance.

“Hello to you too.” She laughed, releasing Roy, but keeping Jason in place. She placed a finger to her lips and evaluated him before pointing. “I knew that shirt was the one.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Just trying to impress you, princess.”

“Yes, me,” she replied with a suggestive wiggle of her brows before wordlessly getting to work. Kori straightened out Jason’s collar and opened the top-most button of his shirt. She then licked a finger and tried to tame the strands of hair that had fallen down the freshly shaved sides of his head. “I wish you had let me trim this, too.”

“So did I, but then you almost van Gogh’ed me.” Jason rubbed at his now exposed neck, pouting.

“You are such a drama queen,” she said, swatting his hand away.

“And you’re absolutely terrifying.”

Kori hummed with delight, taking it as a compliment. Then she stepped back to survey him one last time and nodded. “This will do. Very handsome.”

They took their seats and Roy was rambling on about some recent robotics breakthrough when he suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Why is she here?”

Roy was staring across the room, mouth open and eyes wide with horror, at a raven-haired woman their age in a sparkly black dress. Kori perked up immediately.

“Oh, I love Donna! She was the one who introduced me to Richard, actually.” Kori’s sigh was thick with devotion. “How do you know her?”

A stifled laugh escaped Jason’s lips as he leaned back in his chair. Finally, karma was on his side for once.

“Biblically,” he said smugly.

Roy shot Jason a look. “What he means is we grew up together.”

“No, what I mean is…” Jason chewed his lip in thought for only a split second. “‘Adam knew Eve his wife and she conceived and bare Cain,’” he recited dully, ticking his head back and forth as he spoke.

“We did—” Roy started.

At the same time, Kori said, “I didn’t know you are also religious.”

“I’m not.” Jason shook his head. “I think the whole thing’s a nightmare, but it was important to my mom.”

Kori smiled at him with understanding.

“Can you guys debate the existence of God later, please?” Roy whined.

Jason stared at Roy, brow raised in confusion. “Dude, you knew she was gonna be.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah. You did. She told us.”

Roy’s face scrunched up. “When?”

“Like three different times.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, how drunk were you?”

Roy groaned and slammed his head down against the table as Dick walked up to them carrying food and drinks. He kissed the top of Kori’s head before handing her the glass of red wine.

“For you.”

“Thank you, my love.” She kissed him on the cheek once he sat down.

“What’s up with him?” Dick asked, gesturing towards Roy.

“Girl troubles.”

Dick laughed and Kori scooted her chair closer to him, settling herself against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her temple. The smile spanning his entire face seemed to say “aren’t you glad we don’t have to deal with that?” Jason’s eyes narrowed over the top of his glass and he decided it was somehow the most obnoxious display of affection he had ever seen.

“So?” Dick asked Roy, tone light. “What’dya do?”

Roy lifted his head slightly to peer up at Dick. “Why do you always assume it’s my fault?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” Dick joked. “What’s this one's name?”

Roy winced as he hesitated, bracing himself for the patented Dick Grayson look of judgment he and Jason bonded over when they met.

“Donna.”

It was like the whole room went silent as Dick’s fork clattered dissonantly against his plate. He was still for a moment and then, as if on cue, Dick’s mouth curled downwards.

“What did you do?” he demanded. “How did this even happen?”

“Hey, _I_ wasn’t the one that left in the middle of the night.” Roy sat up, squaring his shoulders defensively. “We ran into her in Greece. She showed us around. Couple shots of ouzo later, we’re back at the hotel and-”

Dick quickly held up his glass of water in protest. “Please stop there.”

Jason snickered, letting his enjoyment of Dick’s obvious displeasure briefly override his concern for his best friend.

Kori took Dick’s hand to steady him. She asked Roy calmly and sincerely, “What exactly is the problem here? Do you like her?”

“No,” Roy answered immediately, but rambled on when he realized maybe that wasn’t the answer they were looking for. “I dunno. I don’t think so. It doesn’t matter anyway, clearly she hates me now.”

“Well, figure it out, because she’s coming over here,” Dick ordered.

Roy risked a glance in Donna’s direction and his eyes bugged open again.

“Why?” he hissed.

“I didn’t know it was gonna be awkward when I made the seating charts!” Dick cried.

Roy threw his hands up. “So move her! We’ll have a great time and forget this ever happened, like I planned to before she showed up and ruined it.”

Dick shook his head sternly. “It doesn’t work like that, Roy. Fix it. _Now_.”

“I need another drink,” Roy grumbled, though his beer was still half-full. He chugged it with abandon, dripping alcohol down his chin and onto his shirt, before standing up quickly, nearly tripping over his own two feet as he fled.

Kori and Jason looked to each other instantly, lips in a fine line of concern, and silently debated which of them should go after him. Jason could talk Roy down from most ledges, but his relationship experience consisted only of a brief stint with a guy named Kyle last year and a handful of other people who never cared enough to stick around. Plus, Kori would be able to work both sides.

“Let me handle it,” she said with a smile and a soft touch to Jason’s forearm.

Kori kissed Dick goodbye and the second she was gone, Jason was hit with the horrible realization they didn’t take into account who would be left behind. He pinched a piece of the tablecloth and fidgeted with it, watching as Dick rubbed his temples. For once, Jason didn’t have anything to say, and would have been grateful Dick was the one to break the tense silence if he had chosen any other words to string together.

“I can’t believe he did that,” Dick groaned.

Jason crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “ _They’re_ consenting adults, officer.”

Dick let out a deep, impatient breath, like that hadn’t been the point. “Exactly, Jason. You’re adults now.” He pointed an accusatory finger. “Act like it and deal with the consequences.”

Jason wasn’t sure when this had become about something he did, but if that was how Dick wanted to spin things, so be it. He barked out a humorless laugh as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“Pot, kettle, Grayson.”

Dick recoiled. His nostrils flared. “Bruce spent all that money on Yale for you to learn cliches?”

Jason grabbed his glass in a vice-like grip. Gin burned down his throat as he threw the last of it back before pushing away from the table.

“At least he didn’t waste it on me dropping out,” he spat, taking a not so subtle dig at Dick’s own education.

Jason started to leave and Dick jolted upright. “Where are you going?”

But Jason just kept walking.

“You can’t leave,” Dick called out, desperation seeping into his voice. “You promised, Jay.”

Jason spun fast on his heel as he pulled a cigarette out of its package. He flicked it at Dick, hitting him in the shoulder and causing Dick to flinch.

“I’m not, asshole,” he growled. “Excuse me for not wanting to be subjected to another lecture from New York’s finest _dick_.”

Jason waited for a beat as Dick simply blinked at him, mouth hanging open slightly. Jason swore he saw the corner of Dick’s lips twitch up just before he finally turned away. He glared his way through a pack of socialites, all clutching their purses at the sight of him. Jason shoved open the large doors to the patio, not even registering the crisp autumn air that slapped him in the face. He rested his elbows on the thick stone balustrade, burying his face in his hands as he cursed.

Jason had no illusions about how difficult the weekend would be. He had seen too much in his 22 years to be that naive. He just didn’t understand what he had done to deserve a life where every time things seemed to be looking up, the ground got pulled from under him once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 05/09/2020: Fixed some grammatical errors, clarified that Roy and Jason did go to different schools (sorry, realized it’s relevant later), and made Kori seem less dumb because I 100% do not have time for that


	3. Barbara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of backstory in this one, which means references to drug/alcohol addiction, assault, and the slightest mention of domestic terrorism. Honestly, it got a little darker than I thought it would, but nothing too brutal or graphic. This is very much a “bad things happened in the past and we’re gonna hug and heal now” fic.
> 
> For reference, Jason’s pretentious French is from Les Mis and translates to “it's nothing to die.”

The horizon was a retreating glow of orange as night fell upon Wayne Manor. A light fog drifted in from the bay it presided over, blanketing the manicured gardens and the trees eager to turn colors. Between the lights of Gotham proper across the water and the smog of New Jersey, Barbara could only make out a couple stars in the sky as she stepped outside. Her sight immediately fell on Jason and she frowned. The flicker of a small flame peeked around his broad shoulders, muscles tense as he struggled with what must have been his lighter.

They talked about it only once; how a parent’s addiction tore the families they were born into apart. For Barbara, it cost her both of them, causing her to move to Gotham at 13 to live with her uncle, Jim. Jason was only a year older when his mom, Catherine, succumbed to hers, and he watched alone and helpless, with Willis having walked out on them years before.

So Barbara knew Jason hated he was a smoker maybe even more than she hated the vice. Having gotten Jim to quit, Barbara once took it upon herself to help Jason too. She’d hide his cigarettes or throw them out and even on occasion stooped as low as petty bribery. But it only ever curbed Jason’s habits for a few days. He had started too young, part of a desperate attempt to make himself look tougher to the neighborhood kids who used to push him around.

“Still slowly killing yourself, I see,” Barbara said pointedly, settling against the cold stone next to Jason and crossing her arms.

The corners of Jason’s mouth quirked up slightly as he pulled the cigarette from it. “‘Ce n'est rien de mourir,’ Red.”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “And ‘it is dreadful not to _live_ ,’ Jason.”

She tilted her head slightly towards him, brow furrowed and lips in a fine line of disappointment. Jason bit his own in a feeble attempt to contain the full-blown smile spreading across his face, and Barbara’s composure cracked just a little. Because with the shock worn off and time to process, she was forced to come to the conclusion that Dinah was correct. Jason Todd got hot. 

Objectively speaking, that is, and completely unrelated to the quick rhythm Barbara’s heart was now pounding at.

“I was done anyway,” Jason said as he looked down. He rubbed the cigarette on the railing before moving to drop it over the edge into the flowerbed below.

“Sure, Todd,” Barbara replied facetiously, noticing the way he slipped it into his sleeve at the last second. “Keep littering like that and you can smoke all you want. Alfred spent weeks tending to those chrysanthemums.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong for once.” Jason turned towards her and pointed inside. “I could murder one of those rich assholes and even Bruce wouldn't bat an eye.”

“Is that your way of saying things are okay?” Barbara asked with cautious optimism.

“I’ve been here for…” Jason mimed looking at a watch, though his wrist was empty. “36 hours without getting kicked out again, so—”

Barbara sighed. “Bruce didn't kick you out.”

“Semantics.” He waved her off. “Seriously, it’s like some _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ shit, where everyone is pretending we’re this perfect fucking family.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Except Dick, of course. He’s still living up to his name.”

Barbara let out a bitter laugh.

“That’s not quite the word I’d use, but I know what you mean. He’s acting like everything is the same between us, and I wish that was true, but it’s not even close.”

“So you dumped him, right?” Jason asked bluntly.

Barbara arched a brow. “That’s a bold assumption.”

“Nah, not really.” Jason grinned. “Only an idiot would break up with you and even Grayson’s not that dumb.”

“I’m not perfect, Jason,” she said as she turned around, resting her elbows against the railing.

Barbara looked out over the lawn and placed its landmarks in the dark. Directly below them stretched out the Olympic-size swimming pool she learned how to swim in Beyond it was the rose garden in memory of Bruce’s late parents, constructed 15 years after they passed. Barbara was 14 at the time and tripped over a paver, spraining her ankle. Bruce carried her inside, even as she complained the entire way that she didn’t need any help.

And somewhere in the forest behind the garden miraculously still stood the treehouse a 13 year-old Dick begged Bruce to build with him that same summer. It was immediately condemned by Alfred, but that didn’t stop Dick and Barbara from sneaking up there, carving their initials into the boards, and vowing they’d be friends forever. Four years later, Dick insisted he and Barbara crawl back up again after their first date. Ever the hopeless romantic, he added a heart around the letters, that time promising her he was going to marry her one day.

Now, Barbara wanted to cut the whole damn forest down.

“What happened?” Jason asked.

“What didn’t?” Barbara replied sadly, remembering their drawn out mess of a breakup. “It’s like… when you’re doing a puzzle. How sometimes you find two pieces that you swear go together, but it takes a little too much force to make them work. And it’s not until the puzzle’s almost done that you realize you should’ve listened to your instincts. The pieces are part of this bigger thing, there’s just a place where they fit better and it’s not with each other.”

“How long you been workin’ on that?” Jason said without missing a beat.

Barbara tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, Barb. Y'know I love a metaphor, and as _on brand_ as that one is”—Jason held his hand up, thumb and pointer finger together, for emphasis—“I know _you_.”

Barbara cocked her head and looked up at him, her smile small and uncertain. He _knew_ her. Past tense, the idealistic teenager she once was. So how was it Jason could still see right through her, as if their years apart meant nothing? It certainly wasn’t because she had become that transparent. Maybe it was proximity, like when Barbara moved back in with her dad and he reverted to acting like she was sixteen again. Or maybe it was the harder truth Barbara wasn’t ready to accept yet; that she had been this person all along and never realized it.

“Wanna try again?” Jason encouraged playfully. “Maybe throw a couple specifics in there this time?”

Barbara turned away, twisting one of the rings on her fingers for a moment.

“We were having problems for a while,” she finally admitted. “Living together was a great idea logistically. In every other regard… I mean, I don’t need to tell _you_ about Dick’s flaws. Needy, self-righteous, overprotective— But it’s because he cares so much, y’know? And his heart’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. Then I… Um…”

Barbara bit her lip. She intended to tell Jason about the nightmare that had been the past year of her life, and how when faced with mortality, Barbara and Dick had come to two very different realizations about what they wanted from their futures. But when she faced Jason again, the words got caught in her throat. He had leaned in close and was staring intently at her. His eyes held nothing but warmth and support, and it had been so long since someone looked at her like that without some underlying sense of concern.

“Quit my job,” came out instead, which wasn’t technically a lie. Even though it happened before and was entirely unrelated.

“Alfred mentioned you worked for Bruce.”

“Security analyst. Should’ve been a dream job,” Barbara said. “So, Dick decided he wanted us to move to New York, settle down somewhere he could make a name for himself separate from Bruce’s. But Gotham’s home, and… It just felt like running from my problems. When he started talking about marriage, I… I don’t know. I mean, that was always part of our plan, but it’s like once it was real, the whole thing just felt…”

“Suffocating?” Jason suggested.

Barbara nodded.

“Dick thought we could work through it. I didn’t,” she explained with a defeated shrug. “Everyone kept telling me ‘relationships take compromise,’ and sure to some extent. But when you keep having the same fights over and over again, I think you have to accept there’s fundamental differences and walk away. That maybe… Love’s just not enough sometimes.

“Which is why Dinah’s convinced I’m not over him. Understand, I am,” Barbara said confidently. “And as long as it’s taken me to admit it, Kori’s good for him.”

“Grayson’s always had good taste in women.” Jason tilted his chin up slightly, indiating his approval of Barbara specifically. “It’s what they see in him that’s the mystery.”

Barbara shook her head despite her smile, this time refusing to engage.

“I’ve known Dick since he was 12 and I’ve never seen him this happy. And I’m happy for him, truly, but… I need a little time to get used to it, I think? Especially being here, where everything just reminds me of the life I planned for myself… I know I don’t want any of it anymore, but for some reason I can’t help it, I… Because I—” She hung her head, looking away from him. “I’ve never felt more lost, Jason.”

Barbara’s confession was quiet and it tasted rusty and foreign on her tongue from having been buried deep for so long. It wasn’t about the break up. She may not have been able to describe the hollow feeling in her chest, but she knew it started before then. Finally naming it after all this time should have been a relief. Instead, she just felt like failure.

Jason reached out and placed a soothing hand on Barbara’s forearm, his fingers rough and calloused as they brushed against her bare skin. With his other hand, he gestured around to the lavish eccentricity that came with the Waynes.

“You never actually wanted this.”

“Of course I did.” Barbara looked at Jason incredulously. “Just because you want to pretend that you don’t.”

Jason turned away from her, crossing his arms tightly as he leaned back against the railing. Barbara ignored the coolness on her arm at the loss of his touch by focusing on the profile of Jason’s face. How the tension moved across it as his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, the way his prominent Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed hard.

“Doesn’t matter what I _wanted_ , Barbara.” Jason grumbled with resentment. “You and me? We’re always gonna be fighting for approval we’re never gonna get.”

He stared off for a moment, and when he spoke again his glare had softened.

“Remember that first time you tutored me? How pissed you were? I could tell because you kept pressing too hard and snapping the tip of your pencil, but whenever I asked what was wrong, you just said ‘nothing.’” Jason kicked his boot against the ground. “I thought you hated me or something, that you were only helping me to please Bruce. After, like, the tenth time I asked, you finally told me _you_ had to beg _him_.”

Of course Barbara remembered. She already felt her blood boil even at the memory of that day and the time leading up to it.

It was always clear Jason had potential; that was what drew Bruce to him in the first place. But making it to class wasn’t exactly a priority when he was struggling to keep his mom safe and a roof over their heads. Thrown into the rigor of Gotham Academy halfway through his freshman year, Jason needed someone to catch him up. Barbara was a senior, on track to be valedictorian, and a volunteer at the library. Always willing to help a kid out, she offered her services to Bruce. It took weeks of convincing for her to even get a shot at it, with Bruce relenting that Barbara could formally have the position once he realized that not only were Jason’s grades improving, but he was finally opening up to someone roughly his own age too.

“Is there a point to this, Jason?” Barbara snipped.

“The _point_ is that Bruce knew how brilliant you are, and I bet he made you work twice as hard to prove yourself at Wayne Enterprises too,” Jason preached. “You’re not cut out to be another one of Bruce’s corporate soldiers because _you’re better than that_ , Barb. So stop holding yourself to some ten year plan you made when you were eighteen.”

It was a nice sentiment, one Barbara had mostly figured out already. Bruce’s approval never stopped her from doing anything, but it certainly made her life harder over the years. Especially when he became her boss. No matter how far up the ladder he was from her entry-level position, Bruce had a talent for making her feel second-rate or taken for granted, and that she felt like she could do more elsewhere was half the reason she quit. What Barbara did appreciate, however, was Jason’s confirmation that her feelings were no more irrational than feelings usually were.

Jason turned to face Barbara, resting his hip against the balustrade, and she found herself mimicking his movements.

“You know what your real problem is?” he asked.

“Please, enlighten me,” she said wryly.

“You think too much,” Jason said, eyes locking on hers. “Cede control for once, Barbara. Do something just because it feels right.”

Barbara smirked. “You mean like you do, Jason?”

He gave a quick wag of his brow, that shit-eating grin still on his face, and Barbara wondered what exactly Jason was daring her to do. The longer she stared him down trying to figure it out, the faster Barbara felt her cheeks start to burn and oh, that was not the effect she remembered that stupid look having on her. Judging by Jason’s arrogant little laugh, he definitely noticed. And she couldn’t let him get away with that.

“So what changed that coming back now _feels right_?”

“I already told ya, Barbie. I missed you.” Jason lowered his head and tapped his fingers erratically against the stone. “And Alf and Ace and sneaking out for chili dogs at Dixon’s Diner. What I wanna know is how you got roped into being a bridesmaid.”

Barbara placed a hand on her hip. It was the same half-truth deflection she learned to expect from Jason Todd, but his tells hadn’t changed either, and his mouth twitched slightly before he said it. Barbara had gone toe-to-toe with the Wayne men enough times to know patience was usually the key to victory. Jason could think he won this one. For now.

“According to Talia, Bruce has always considered me family,” Barbara explained. “And he’s been there for me when it mattered.”

She thought of all the medical bills Bruce had covered and all the doctors that told Barbara she was lying before he used his clout with the hospital to get her in with one that didn’t.

“I owe him this much,” she added.

Jason sucked his teeth. “Must be nice.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he said softly.

“Honestly, I think it’s mostly because she doesn’t have any friends.”

Jason hummed. “Bit prickly, isn’t she?”

“Only on the surface.” Barbara smiled slyly. “Kind of like someone else we know.”

Jason exaggeratedly looked around before pointing at himself and mouthing, “Me?”

Barbara laughed loudly and covered her mouth to stifle the sound.

“I meant Bruce, but sure. We can go with that.”

Jason’s nose scrunched up in a scowl. “I’m nothing like him.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Barbara said. “Give her a chance, okay? You’ll like her.”

Jason tapped his chin with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How confident are you about that?”

“And let you rig another bet?” Barbara said through a laugh. “No way. You’re not getting off that easily.”

“Barbie, please don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“No one cares about your weird fetishes, Ja—”

Barbara inhaled sharply as a sudden pain pierced her lower back. She tried to school her expression, but her grip on the railing turned her knuckles white and when Jason called her “Babs” she knew it was a lost cause.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?” Jason moved to reach out a hand, but quickly pulled it back when she flinched.

Barbara nodded her head vigorously. This was what okay meant for her now. Stabbing pains that came and went, muscle aches from her weakened body, and a quiet burning, always there like white noise deep in her bones. Finally getting medication for it had helped so far to make most days manageable. Then she’d push herself too far or the goddamn weather would change or there’d be no discernible reason at all and the pain would spike to the point where getting out of bed seemed impossible. And it was on those days that Barbara felt like this was her curse—the price she deserved to pay for still being able to walk, when so many others with spinal cord injuries couldn’t.

She shut her eyes tight and focused on her breathing, the murmur of the party through the glass, the whistle of the wind in the trees and the smell of oak and sea salt on the breeze; anything to distract her.

“Keep talking,” Barbara ordered through gritted teeth.

“Um… How… H— How’s your dad?” Jason stammered.

Barbara subconsciously dug her nails into her palm.

“He’s good, thanks.” She opened her eyes and forced a smile. “He’s working.”

“Sounds like Jim.”

“Believe it or not, he took time off, but…” Barbara hesitated. “ _He’s_ back again.”

Jason stared at her blankly, but Barbara knew she didn’t need to clarify. If someone said that to her now, only one person would come to mind. And as much as she didn’t want to talk about what happened to her, Jason deserved to know this part.

Gotham was notorious for its congealed layers of crime and corruption, home to mobs and gangs and one-off lunatics who thought they could get away with anything. The Red Hood Gang wasn't the first and when they showed up on the scene, no one thought they would last. They were just a couple of bumbling clowns in ski masks; leaderless and mainly interested in petty crime with the occasional case of armed robbery. But the anonymity made them like a hydra, and when someone finally did take control of that power, all hell broke loose. Officials were held hostage, water supplies poisoned, buildings blown up… No one knew his name or where he came from, just that every major catastrophe in Gotham over the last decade belonged to him. Rumors spread through the city of acidic green eyes and a vicious cackle—the last things you’d witness if you crossed his path.

It was like nothing the police had faced before. The crime families of Gotham—the Falcones, the Maronis, the Zuccos—they all had a code. The Red Hood Gang had none. No goals, no motives, and no one spared.

When Jason was 16, he learned firsthand what it was like to be caught in that crossfire.

It started when a woman named Sheila Haywood showed up claiming to be Jason’s real mother. At first, he wanted nothing to do with her. Jason had been living at Wayne Manor for over a year by then and was finally feeling settled, letting himself start to have dreams for his future for the first time in his life. And why would he want another parent when Jason had Bruce? They’d go to the theater together on Sundays, restore old books with Alfred, and even play catch in the yard like the picture-perfect father and son.

There was also the fact that Jason definitely wasn’t ready to even consider the idea that his relationship with Catherine—the parent that stayed, at least in his eyes—might have been built on a lie.

Still, Sheila’s words must have disturbed something in Jason, because that was when the fighting started. Whether it was detention from punching a kid at school or the verbal spars at home, even Dick could tell something was wrong. No one would deny Jason had a mouth at times, but everyone knew he was a good kid.

After a particularly nasty argument with Bruce, Jason feared he regretted his decision and sought Sheila out. Unfortunately for him, she was the one lying. She did know Willis, but only professionally, from the brief time they spent working for the Red Hood together years before. Sheila’s assignment was to lure Jason in, get him on their side, and in turn gain access to Bruce’s money. What the madman in charge never considered was that Jason was nothing like his deceased father.

By the time anyone found him, Jason was barely hanging on. Bruce, terrified he could have lost his son, decided Gotham wasn’t safe for Jason anymore.

The Red Hood Gang laid low after that, resurfaced for a few years, and then went back underground after their run-in with Barbara. Three weeks ago, when news broke of a factory explosion near Tricorner Yards, everyone knew the devil had returned to Gotham. The GCPD went on high alert, and even though Barbara hardly left their apartment, she could count the number of time’s she had seen her dad since then on one hand.

“I know,” Jason said eventually. “How bad do you think it’s gonna get?”

Barbara shrugged. “Dad seems hopeful, at least. He set up a new task force, should have less rats on it this time.”

“Yet he told _you_ about it,” Jason said suspiciously.

Barbara smiled, saccharinely laced with feigned innocence. It was simple, really, to get into Jim’s head and decipher his files. Anything Barbara knew that truly mattered, she had learned from years of paying careful attention to her father’s methods.

“You little scamp.” Jason laughed. “And to think everyone at school used to make fun of you for being straight-laced.”

She crossed her arms. “They shouldn’t have underestimated me.”

Jason’s lips parted slightly as something Barbara couldn’t quite place flashed across his face.

“What else do you know?” he asked, quickly getting back to business.

“Not much,” Barbara said. “Someone sent in an anonymous tip about their hideout. An abandoned chemical processing plant in the Bowery. I’m sure that’s what they’re investigating.”

“The one the GCPD have been looking for for years?” He scoffed. “That’s a new level of useless, even for them.”

“If they get him off the streets, I don’t care how they do it.”

“You grew up with those pigs, Barbara. You can’t honestly tell me you believe they’re capable of that.” Jason took a ragged breath to calm his raising voice.

“I believe in my dad,” the sentiment coming out more half-hearted than she intended.

Jason opened his mouth, prepared to fire back at her, snapping it shut when he realized what she said. It dropped back open slightly as his eyes widened.

“That’s not the stubborn, self-centered speech you used to give,” he said.

“Because you’re right,” Barbara conceded.

Jason blinked. “What?”

“Their track record is full of increasingly bad headlines and a body count so high the city can’t agree on the number. That’s not exactly protecting or serving, Jason.”

“Where is this coming from?” Jason asked, stressing his concern.

“Like you’re not enjoying this,” Barbara chided. “You were the one always pestering us about how the system was broken.”

“Yeah, and you’d turn it into a personal attack on your dad and your childhood dreams.”

“Things change, Jason! If you have a problem with it—”

“Woah, when did I say I had a problem, Barbara?” Jason rolled his eyes. “Whenever I talk to Roy about the Red Hood, all I get is a stupid joke and a ‘karma’ll get ‘em one day, Jaybird.’”

If they were having any other conversation, Barbara would have laughed at his near perfect imitation. Instead, she smiled sadly.

“It’s ‘what about citizen’s rights and due process’ with Dinah.”

And Dick and her dad and Bruce and god it was nice to finally talk to someone who wasn’t trying to sell her on the power of positivity and having faith in the law.

“You think he can’t buy a jury? Or threaten a judge?” Barbara continued. “What kind of justice can come from that?”

“He’d just slither back like the snake that he is. Robbing people of their mothers and fathers, assaulting innocent kids…” The sound of Jason cracking his knuckles cut through the quiet night. “Don’t they deserve better?”

But his choice of examples wasn’t exactly subtle and Barbara heard the “don’t I?” hanging in the air louder.

 _Don’t we?,_ she thought.

Barbara took Jason’s hand in her own and squeezed gently. He looked down at them, chewing hard at his lip for a moment before turning his palm over and lacing their fingers together tightly.

“He stopped playing by the rules a long time ago. So why are we?” Barbara said, her tone even yet determined.

“Some people are beyond redemption, Barb,” Jason growled. “And that psychopath is definitely one of them. You can’t honestly tell me the world wouldn’t be better off with him burning in Hell.”

“Actually, I think Hell’s too kind a punishment.”

The door to the patio quietly clicked open, unleashing an overwhelming wave of chatter and music in its wake. Barbara and Jason turned to find Alfred Pennyworth walking towards them. Balding with a neatly trimmed moustache, he was easily the most dignified member of the household. Seeing him in a suit was hardly a momentous occasion, and there was a time as a kid when Barbara once wondered if he slept in them too. Alfred’s eyes flickered between Jason and Barbara and he smiled as if he knew something they didn’t.

“Master Jason, Miss Barbara. My apologies if I’m interrupting,” he said in his strong British accent. “Dinner is being served.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Barbara replied. “But you know you’re not supposed to be working this weekend.”

“Yes, well”—Alfred tilted his head to side as if to peer around Jason—“wrangling you all is not part of my job description, now is it?” he said dryly. “Feels rather strange to be fond of Master Jason’s habitually late tendencies for once.”

“Sorry, Alf.” Jason dropped Barbara’s hand to scratch at his collar as he spoke. “We’re coming.”

With a polite nod, Alfred turned to head back inside.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Jason whispered to Barbara as they followed Alfred.

Jason’s face was so close that Barbara could feel his warm breath on her ear as he spoke. A shiver ran through her body and she blamed it on the gust of wind that blew past them.

“About the flowers?” Barbara managed to say. She patted him on the shoulder patronizingly. “Yeah, you’re screwed, Todd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Sorry that one took so much longer. They all might until the world stops being the way it is. Half because my quarantine arrangements are not condusive to writing and half because it’s really hard to stay focused and motivated with everything going on. Thinking about these two dummies is a good distraction from that, so hopefully this chapter helps you a little bit too. My [asks](https://anchored.tumblr.com/ask) are always open on tumblr if you have questions or concerns or just need someone to talk to. Thanks for reading and hope you all stay safe <3
> 
> 11/17/2020: It's been a while since an update, so I just wanted to drop a lil note to say that this is in no way abanonded. I've been (slowly) working on it for the past few months, and while I have the whole thing roughed out, I needed to reassess parts when I started filling things. Before I start posting again, I want to make sure I have a couple chapters set so there's less of a gap. In the meantime, I'm gonna try to post [previews on tumblr](https://anchored.tumblr.com/tagged/db+wip) regularly if anyone's interested. Thanks so much for your patience!


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